Unknown to History: a story of the captivity of Mary of Scotland eBook

CHAPTER XXXI. EVIDENCE.

In the meantime the two Richard Talbots, father and
son, had safely arrived in London, and had been made
welcome at the house of their noble kinsman.

Nau and Curll, they heard, were in Walsingham’s
house, subjected to close examination; Babington and
all his comrades were in the Tower. The Council
was continually sitting to deliberate over the fate
of the latter unhappy men, of whose guilt there was
no doubt; and neither Lord Talbot nor Will Cavendish
thought there was any possibility of Master Richard
gaining permission to plead how the unfortunate Babington
had been worked on and deceived. After the sentence
should be pronounced, Cavendish thought that the request
of the Earl of Shrewsbury might prevail to obtain
permission for an interview between the prisoner and
one commissioned by his former guardian. Will
was daily attending Sir Francis Walsingham as his
clerk, and was not by any means unwilling to relate
anything he had been able to learn.

Queen Elizabeth was, it seemed, greatly agitated and
distressed. The shock to her nerves on the day
when she had so bravely overawed Barnwell with the
power of her eye had been such as not to be easily
surmounted. She was restless and full of anxiety,
continually starting at every sound, and beginning
letters to the Queen of Scots which were never finished.
She had more than once inquired after the brave sailor
youths who had come so opportunely to her rescue; and
Lord Talbot thought it would be well to present Diccon
and his father to her, and accordingly took them with
him to Greenwich Palace, where they had the benefit
of looking on as loyal subjects, while her Majesty,
in royal fashion, dined in public, to the sound of
drums, trumpets, fifes, and stringed instruments.
But though dressed with her usual elaborate care,
she looked older, paler, thinner, and more haggard
than when Diccon had seen her three weeks previously,
and neither her eye nor mouth had the same steadiness.
She did not eat with relish, but almost as if she
were forcing herself, lest any lack of appetite might
be observed and commented upon, and her looks continually
wandered as though in search of some lurking enemy;
for in truth no woman, nor man either, could easily
forget the suggestion which had recently been brought
to her knowledge, that an assassin might “lurk
in her gallery and stab her with his dagger, or if
she should walk in her garden, he might shoot her
with his dagg, or if she should walk abroad to take
the air, he might assault her with his arming sword
and make sure work.” Even though the enemies
were safe in prison, she knew not but that dagger,
dagg, or arming sword might still be ready for her,
and she believed that any fatal charge openly made
against Mary at the trial might drive her friends to
desperation and lead to the use of dagg or dagger.
She was more unhinged than ever before, and commanded
herself with difficulty when going through all the
scenes of her public life as usual.